


Fallin’ Flower: Hydrangea

by Kenziekitters



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, Fluff, Insomnia, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 09:26:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29416353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kenziekitters/pseuds/Kenziekitters
Summary: “That’ll be $24.75.” The shopkeeper told the raven haired boy, eyeing the bundle of hydrangeas she had wrapped up for him. She couldn’t help but wonder where these flowers were going, were they for a family member? Friend? Lover? Himself? Hydrangeas represented ‘gratitude for being understood’ or ‘frigidity and heartlessness’. The boy standing in front of her certainly didn’t look frigid or heartless. Was he thanking someone? What was his story…
Relationships: Lee Jihoon | Woozi/Reader
Kudos: 4





	Fallin’ Flower: Hydrangea

328...329...330...331...332… It didn’t matter how many imaginary sheep you counted, not a single one of them had the answer to why you couldn’t sleep. What used to be a monthly or weekly occurrence was now becoming a nightly thing, and it was starting to wear you down. Every time you laid your head down to sleep you remembered the seemingly endless number of assignments you had to do, and all of your approaching deadlines. You couldn’t find a way to turn your brain off long enough in order for sleep to claim you. You rolled over and checked the time on your phone, squinting as the light hit your tired eyes… 1:30am, you had been laying there for 2 hours now. 

Sitting up, you stretched and yawned, rubbing your eyes before moving to get up. There was always a certain point during your restless nights that you just couldn’t continue to lay in bed anymore. If you weren’t going to be able to sleep, might as well get up and do something. Usually you would go for walks or watch a movie on your computer. Tonight you felt like moving. After pulling on a hoodie and a pair of sneakers, you grabbed your phone and keys before heading out. There were only a few buildings on campus that stayed unlocked all night for students to use for work or studies. One of your favourite places to go on restless nights was the arts building. It was always quiet, and you could wander through student projects to keep yourself occupied. 

You took your time as you wandered down the sidewalk, eyes scanning over the dark empty streets. Being up in the middle of the night wasn’t always bad, it was actually one of the only times that you could really hear yourself think and take a breather. You forgot about assignments and deadlines for a little while, and just let your mind wander.

_

It wasn’t long before you arrived at the familiar stone building. Sometimes you would find a few students here working late on their various projects, but most nights the building was empty. You wandered through the familiar halls, eyes scanning over the artwork along the walls. Most of the pieces you had looked at a million times, however, you always noticed new things each time, something that hadn’t stood out to you before. 

“Are you lost?” a voice disrupted your thoughts, nearly causing you to jump. You quickly turned toward the direction it was coming from, finding a dark haired boy eyeing you curiously. When you didn’t answer the boy simply sighed and shook his head.

“Do you sleepwalk or something? Is there someone I should call?” he asked, moving towards you. You couldn’t tell if he was annoyed or concerned. You blinked a few times before shaking your head, as if that would somehow help you gather your thoughts enough to answer the boy in front of you. 

“I’m sorry?” you said, too sleep deprived to fully process what he was asking you. He sighed and stopped a ways from you, his hands perched on his hips as his eyes scanned over you. Now that you could see him better you could tell he was an art student. The splotches of paint on his clothes and hands acted as a dead giveaway. 

“You don’t seem drunk…. Why are you here? I’ve seen you around here before at night, but never in any of my classes…” he explained, your brain finally catching up to what was going on. 

“Oh!” you exclaimed with a soft laugh, your posture relaxing as you turned to face him fully. “I go to school here but I’m not in the arts program. I just like coming here when I can’t sleep.” you explained with a gentle smile. Your answer was obviously not one that he was expecting, from the confusion that passed over his features. You didn’t know if it was because he didn’t believe you, or didn’t understand why you came here when you couldn’t sleep. Nonetheless, he didn’t press you any further and slowly nodded.

“Alright…” he said uncertainly before turning and walking back down the hall. You opened your mouth to answer him or explain yourself further, but he had already disappeared into one of the adjacent rooms. You slowly moved down the hall, unconsciously following the strange boy. You paused in front of the room he had entered, peering into a small art studio with a large easel and canvas set up in the middle. You watched him for a few minutes as he moved about the room gathering different paints and brushes. You hadn’t realized how long you had been staring until he turned around and fixed you with an annoyed glare.

“Are you just going to stand there all night?” he questioned, his posture tense as he waited for you to leave. 

“Can I watch?” you asked, your eyes pleading a little bit as you hoped he would say yes. Staring at finished pieces of art was good and fun, but you were also curious to see how the paintings were made. Once again the boy seemed startled by your response, his shoulders dropping as he fixed you with a confused stare.

“I.. I guess?” he said, uncertain as you entered the room and sat down at one of the tables in the back corner. “I need to focus though, so don’t be disruptive” he mumbled, obviously not used to having someone watch him work. You were honestly shocked that he had agreed, but you figured your request had caught him off guard and he hadn’t known how to answer. You didn’t want to disrupt him, but you were also desperate for something to do. Watching someone paint seemed like a calming enough activity.   
“Hmm!” you agreed as you settled in at the table, your head resting on your hands as you watched him go back to what he was doing it. At first he would glance back at you every few moments, constantly aware of your eyes following his movements. However, over time he seemed to grow used to your presence and got lost in his work. 

Watching him paint was oddly comforting, and before long your eyes slid closed as you listened to the sounds of him rustling around and a brush being dragged across a canvas. Before you knew it you had fallen asleep at the table, head resting in your arms. 

_

Waking up the next morning you were confused by how stiff your arms and legs were. Opening your eyes you blinked a few times as you sat up, unsure as to why you weren’t in your room until you remembered the events of the previous night. You quickly looked around for the boy who had been painting but he seemed to be long gone… 

Your eyes landed on a coffee cup sitting on the table you were at, a small note folded up next to it. Picking it up you unfolded it as your eyes scanned over the words,   
‘You fell asleep… I didn’t want to wake you. Drink this when you wake up’

You read it again, just to make sure you didn’t miss something. You could have sworn the boy from last night hadn’t liked you very much, but maybe you had been wrong. You stood up, stretching out your stiff arms and legs as you took the drink. It was still warm so he must have stayed here all night… you wished that you would have asked him his name…

_

Little did you know that for the next month you would be spending nearly every night watching the boy you had come to know as Lee Jihoon paint. He got used to having you there as company, and watching him paint was the only thing that would help you sleep. Sometimes he stayed until you woke up, if he didn’t have class, and you two would go for breakfast. Or sometimes you would wake up to a cup of coffee next to you. 

You had gotten used to the routine of heading down to his studio at 1am, sometimes bringing snacks or your own homework with you. Most nights were quiet and the two of you barely exchanged words, but once in a while you would find him opening up to you and sharing details about his friends, classes or the painting he was working on. You fell into the habit of telling him about your day when he seemed stressed about his work, after you noticed that it seemed to help him clear his head. Even if you two didn’t talk much, it was just nice being in each other's company and not having to be alone. 

You smiled a little to yourself as you silently entered the all too familiar building, heading towards the room that had become almost like a second home. Just as you were about to turn the corner towards his studio, a loud crashing caught you off guard, causing you to jump a little and pause. You realized a second later that it had come from Jihoon’s studio and confusion passed over your features… Had he dropped something?

You quickly closed the distance between you and the lit doorway down the hall, coming to a stop before you entered, eyes searching for the source of the sound that you had heard. You saw Jihoon standing there, hands pressed over his eyes, sleeves rolled up and paint covering most of the exposed skin on his forearms. His posture was stiff and his breathing fast and heavy. Next to him on the floor was the painting he had been working on for the last 2 weeks, the one he had explained to you on a previous night was the final project for one of his courses. It took you a few moments to piece together what was going on, a frown coming to your lips. It was rare for Jihoon to get frustrated with his work, even when he had gotten stuck before it had never stressed him out to his extent… something must have happened.

You silently made your way into the room, hand reaching up to gently rest on his shoulder. He seemed startled for a moment before slowly moving his hands away from his face and looking at you. His eyes were filled with a mixture of emotions, but from his drawn eyebrows and slightly parted lips you could tell he was feeling defeated. It absolutely devastated you to see him like this. Without saying a word you slowly coaxed him toward the back of the room, guiding him to sit down in the chair that you usually occupied. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked slowly, not wanting to pry or make him uncomfortable. His body deflated a little bit as he looked up at the ceiling, a short sigh escaping his lips as he closed his eyes for a moment. 

“I had my evaluation today for the end of term piece,” he started, lazily gesturing to the discarded painting on the floor. “My professor said that my take on the assigned theme was too shallow and that I needed to embrace the complexity of the emotions that the painting is trying to express.” he explained bitterly, something akin to anger briefly flashing over his features. “I tried to fix it according to what he said, but now it all feels wrong and I-” he cut himself off as he took a deep breath.

“You liked how it was before… and don’t understand what was wrong with it.” You finished slowly, watching as his eyes snapped over to yours, his lips parted in surprise. You saw him pause for a moment before pressing his lips together and nodding. He looked down at his hands, his fingers idly fiddling with one another as a beat of silence passed between the two of you. 

You pushed yourself up and walked towards the painting, his eyes following your movements. You picked up the discarded piece of artwork and situated it back onto the easel before taking a step back. Your eyes moved over the piece before you hummed softly. 

“There used to be a lot more dark blues and greens,” you noted, glancing back at him for confirmation as he gave a small nod of his head. “Longing…” you turned the word over in your mouth, the theme of this work was centred around longing. 

“I thought maybe it had been too cold before, so I added warmer tones.” He said softly and you could hear the distaste for the new additions in his tone. You nodded a few times before folding your arms over your chest, eyebrows drawing together in concentration. 

“I’m with you on this one, the cooler tones were a much better fit for what you were going for as a finished product. You were trying to emulate the cold lonely feelings that accompany missing and longing for someone.” You said with an exasperated sigh, starting to question if Jihoon's prof had taken the time to visualize the finished canvas. Your comments caught him off guard as he stared at you with a bewildered expression, blinking as he processed what you had said. You had captured exactly what he was going for with this piece without him ever having explained it to you before. You understood his work and his vision, even as it was half finished and crumbling around him. 

“I think you should continue what you had originally intended. Your prof will understand what you were going for when it’s finished, and well if he doesn’t? too bad.” You told him with a laugh, turning toward him with a grin. It took a second, but you saw a small smile pull at the corner of his lips as he relaxed back into the chair. 

“Now,” you began, moving his canvas to the side as you grabbed a small blank one and positioned it on the easel. “Watching you paint always helps me calm down and clear my head, so it’s time for me to return the favour.” You said, determined to try and make him feel better, or at the very least make him laugh with your attempt at painting. 

“Hmmm,” you heard Jihoon hum, looking back you could see he was leaning forward with his head resting on his hands now, his expression amused. You decided to try painting the night sky, figuring it was something relatively simple that you wouldn’t be able to mess up too badly. You started by painting the canvas a darker navy blue toward the top, fading it down into a slightly light blue toward the bottom. 

You took your time adding bits of colour here and there, focused on trying to capture the beauty of the night sky. It all started to go downhill when you began adding the moon and stars, no matter what you did it just didn’t look realistic at all. After a few attempts you leaned back a little and pouted at the canvas, as if you were trying to blame it for your lack of painting skills. 

You hadn’t even heard Jihoon push his chair out and move toward you. It was only when he lightly took your hand with the paintbrush in it within his own that you realized he wasn’t still sitting in the back. You felt his chest press against your back, his breath fanning along your right ear as he guided your hand back to the canvas. 

“Here,” he said softly, moving your hand and creating delicate strokes along the painting. You could feel your heart rate quicken with him in such close proximity, swallowing hard as you tried not to let it show just how nervous you were. You would be lying if you said you had never thought about romantic possibilities with him. He was attractive and you two had been spending so much time together that it was hard not to let your mind wander to the possibilities. However, daydreaming about Jihoon and having him pressed up against you like this were two very different things, and it was difficult to hide the way your cheeks flushed.

“There,” he said, pleased with how it had turned out. Before you had even fully processed what was going on, he was pulling back and admiring the work. You blinked a few times to clear the haze that had momentarily taken over your brain, and looked at the work sitting in front of you now.

“Oh wow..” you breathed, amazed at how much better it looked with the little tweaks that he had done. “You saved it!” you proclaimed, turning back to him with a bright smile. You missed the way that the tips of his ears turned red at the praise, as he muttered something about you doing most of the work with the base colours. 

“Thank you…” he whispered, looking down at his feet as he spoke, knowing that if he met your eyes that he wouldn’t be able to tell you this. “Thank you for distracting me… and making me feel better about my work” he said, his eyes finally flicking up to find yours momentarily. You felt your cheeks warm at his sincerity, mouth parting as you tried to figure out how to answer him. 

“I hated seeing you so beaten down about your art… You’re an amazing artist Jihoon, and I don’t want you to ever forget that okay?” you said, smiling as your eyes finally met his. He did such a good job at hiding his emotions that you could never read them just from his eyes. You could tell one thing, you could tell how much better they looked compared to the eyes you had witnessed when you first walked in here tonight. There was determination back in his gaze, and you knew that whatever happened the final art piece would be stunning. 

“I won’t,” he said with the softest smile you had ever seen on him, and the sight alone was nearly enough to take your breath away. You quickly moved away from his working space and back towards your place in the back, willing all the while for your heart to calm down. You were getting far too worked up for a boy that could very well not even reciprocate your feelings. 

The rest of the night passed as normal, but you did find yourself watching the painter more than the painting this time.

_

Jihoon wasn’t in his studio the next night… or the night after that. You told yourself that this was normal, that sometimes he would follow a normal sleep schedule or have prior commitments with friends. But, you would be lying if you said that you weren’t disappointed. You tried lying to yourself by saying you were just longing for a good night's rest, but in reality you missed him. You missed the little bits of conversation you two shared and learning about his likes and dislikes. You missed watching the way the moonlight filtered through his dark hair. You missed everything about him, and every night you felt too empty and too alone. 

Each time you arrived at the empty studio you would turn and head back home, accepting the reality that he was not going to be there quickly and giving up. However, on the fourth night you couldn’t bring yourself to head back to the cold empty apartment. You hadn’t slept for more than a few hours for the past four days, and you were too tired and too disappointed to even attempt the walk back home. 

You turned on the lights and slowly sunk into your seat at the back of the room. If you closed your eyes you could almost hear the sounds of him breathing and of brush being pulled along canvas. Even being in this room was a comfort itself, but it still wasn’t the same without him there. 

“____?” you heard a familiar voice ask, obvious confusion lacing his tone. Your eyes flew open as you sat up quickly, your cheeks flushing a little bit as if you had been caught doing something wrong. He chuckled a little bit at how startled you were, and it was then that you noticed that he was holding a canvas behind his back, using his body to keep it from view. 

You watched as he moved towards you, setting the mysterious art down against the far wall. Your eyes followed his every movement, watching him as he leaned down a little to stare at you, his eyebrows drawn together concerned. You didn’t realize what the cause of his concern was until one of his hands reached out and cupped your cheek, his thumb gently caressing under your left eye. You broke eye contact with him, staring down at your lap as you felt a wave of embarrassment wash over you. You were sure that you probably looked terrible, and your dark circles did nothing to hide the fact that you hadn’t been sleeping. 

“___” he breathed out your name so softly as he let his hand linger along your cheek, gently tilting your head up to coax you into looking at him once again. 

“You haven’t been sleeping have you?” he asked, his eyes full of concern. You bit your lip before shaking your head a little bit, your fingers fiddling with the hem of your sweater nervously. 

“I’m sorry,” he started, finally letting his hand fall away from his face as he straightened up. Your eyes followed him as he sighed and ran a hand through his hair, messing up his usually neatly kept hair. “I should have-” he continued, but this time you cut him off, curiosity finally getting the better of you. 

“Where have you been?” you asked, your tone harsher and more demanding than you had intended. You had so many things that you wanted to say to him, so many things that you wanted to ask him. You wanted to know why he had suddenly disappeared after making you so dependent on him. You wanted to know why your heart didn’t feel right unless he was there with you. 

He must have expected this because neither your question nor tone caught him off guard. You could tell he was nervous about something, it was obvious with the way that he kept clenching and unclenching his hands. 

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” he mumbled a little to himself, moving back towards the front of the room. “I was working on something… for you,” he continued, and you didn’t miss the light dusting of pink along his cheeks as he picked up the canvas that he had walked in with. “Just keep in mind that it’s not quite finished yet” he explained, walking back towards you with the canvas in hand. 

He set the mysterious art piece down on the table in front of you, and your eyes scanned over a beautiful painting of blue, purple and pink flowers. The detail that had gone into every petal was incredible, and you couldn’t hide your awe as you looked away from the painting and back up at him. 

“This is for me?” you asked, taken aback. He cleared his throat a little and nodded, taking a deep breath as if to prepare himself to say something. 

“They’re hydrangeas,” he started to explain, his voice wavering just a little bit. “I saw them at a flower shop that’s near here and they reminded me of you.” he continued, his voice soft and unsure. “I-I was going to give them to you,” you watched as he glanced away nervously, the redness in his cheeks darkening. “But flowers don’t last long enough, you can only enjoy their beauty for a little while. I knew if I painted them for you… that you would be able to enjoy them forever.” he finished, staring at the ground as he spoke.

“Jihoon…” you breathed, completely caught off guard by his gesture. You couldn’t find the right words to express how you felt, you didn’t know how to make him understand just how special this painting was to you. “Jihoon, they are absolutely stunning…” you started before you looked back at the painting in front of you. While you stared in awe at the beautiful piece of art that he had made for you, he was starring in awe at you. Watching the way your eyes lit up as you took in each of the colours on the canvas had him saying what was on his mind before he realized it. 

“So are you,” he whispered, his eyes watching you with adoration before realizing what he had just said. He quickly turned away from you, cheeks burning as he resisted the urge to flee from the room entirely. You felt your own cheeks heat up at his words, but smiled as you realized what was going on and at how shy he was acting. You stood up slowly and walked in front of him, giggling softly to yourself when you saw that he had his hands pressed tightly over his face. 

“Jihoon… do you… like me?” you asked, pretty confident that you knew the answer already, but it was cute how flustered he was. You reached up and gently urged him to move his hands away from his face, smiling at how red he was. “You know… it would be really great if you did, because I like you too.” you said quietly, nervousness seeping into your voice. His eyes quickly found yours once again, wide and shocked by your confession. 

“Yo-you do?” he asked, still uncertain and unsure as he stared down at you. You smiled at how adorable he was acting and nodded. He visibly relaxed when he realized you were serious, a smile making its way onto his features. You watched as he let out a sigh of relief, his hand reaching out to gently tuck your hair back behind your ear.

“You are so beautiful,” he breathed, his eyes scanning over your face as he moved closer to you. You blushed a little at his words, watching him and knowing exactly what was running through his mind without him having to say it. You leaned up on your toes to lightly press your lips to his, smiling at the feeling of his hand running up to rest along the back of your head. The two of you lingered there for a moment, wanting to savour the feeling and not rush. When he finally pulled back you felt him press his forehead against yours, his fingers lightly playing with the soft hairs at the base of your neck. 

“You’ve always understood me. You always know what I’m thinking without me having to say it.” he breathed, smiling to himself as he guided the two of you to sit with your backs against the wall. You pulled back from him and smiled, intertwining your hands together. Before you could say anything further he softly reached up to guide your head down onto his shoulder.

“Rest…” he whispered, his fingers running through your hair. “You have about 4 days of missed sleep to catch up on, and I’m keeping track.” he said with a soft chuckle. You were too tired to argue with him, and the feeling of his hand playing with your hair had soon lulled you to sleep. You never had to worry about falling asleep after that.


End file.
